Screaming in the Dark
by Demons Of Doom
Summary: Rogue disappeared for a year. Now, she's back, more powerful than ever and with a dark secret she does not want to share.
1. Back from the Dead

As you already know, I don't own any of those fellows.

Please be nice and review

* * *

The darkness outside was ripped apart by lightening. Thunders roared. It seemed the sky would fall apart. No one dared to leave the refugee of their houses. For days, Bayville had being incommunicated and in darkness. The raging storm had plunged the peaceful suburb into chaos.

Ororo Munroe stared outside through one of the tall windows of the Xavier Institute's dining room where, at the moment, the students and teachers were having dinner together. The storm patrons had changed. It still seemed as fearsome and destructive as it had been the first few days, but she knew better. The storm's edge was gone. It was calming down and she knew it would stop soon.

As if angered by her thoughts, a sudden thunder roared in the sky with such force that the entire building seemed to shudder. The whispering conversations were silenced and the students looked around in fear. Many houses had collapsed because of the storm. Despite all of its sophisticated technology, the Mansion was still another building.

Professor Charles Xavier would have been the first to put the children at ease. The Mansion was not just another building. It was not made primarily of stone and concrete, but of steel. He knew the only thing capable of destroying it was itself. The storm did not concern him. But something did.

There was something wrong with his powers. He had been unable to use them properly for the last five days. There was some kind of echo within his head every time he tried to connect mentally with anybody outside of the Institute grounds. And now, he was starting to have problems even inside his own home. And he was not the only one. Jean was experiencing similar difficulties. It was all highly upsetting.

Ten minutes passed since the fearful thunder and some of the mutants started talking again in hushed whispers. The conversation was controlled. There was a lack of enthusiasm in every spoken word. It wasn't just nervousness or stress. It was partly sadness and in, other cases, out of respect for those closest to the mourned person. That night, it would be a year since one of the team disappeared without a trace.

Neither Kurt nor Kitty raised their eyes from their plates. Scott barely talked. Jean tried to do everything she could to fill in the empty space the adults seemed to have vacated.

Logan left the table suddenly, the legs of his chair screeching as he pushed it back. The sound stabbed at their ears. He stormed out without a word. Nobody followed. It was dangerous to be around him now. He blamed himself for what had happened. He blamed himself mercilessly for not being able to find her. Being locked inside because of the storm was making it even worst.

"Ororo…" The Professor's tense voice startled them. "There's someone outside."

"What? With this storm? Who is it?"

"I do not know."

As if his words had been a command of some kind, all the mutants at the table jumped to their feet and ran to the main entrance. The doors were open, whipped about by the wind, slamming noisily against the walls. Some of the students ran outside. Others lingered inside, frightened by the impenetrable darkness that seemed to swallow their companions and that laid like a stalking predator passed the thrashing doors.

Logan lead the chase, running with his unsheathed claws towards the main gates. It was dangerous for him to be outside. The violent rain did not bother him, but the sizzling lightening had killed many since the storm started. With his metal skeleton, he could be another victim if they hit hard enough. But Logan didn't care. He needed to move. Fighting this intruder would be the perfect way to blow off the steam.

The lights suddenly flickered on and the charging mutants halted to a stop, half blinded. Water kept pouring in torrents on them but now, the sky was in silence. They could hear the sound of their own hearts pounding on their ears and the sounds of steps splashing in the muddy grounds behind the the light of the lamps. A figure emerged from the darkness. The blood drained from their faces and they gasped in shock.

She had disappeared without a trace for a year. Not the Police or Logan or Cerebro had been able to locate her. Many feared the worst had happened. They had cried for her. They had dealt with her apparent death. They had buried her in their minds. But now, shuffling towards them, her cloths shredded and her skin as pale as the white light of the lamps, was Rogue.

She stood there, watching them with a wild hostile gaze. The wind blowing behind her carried a putrid smell. No one moved, as if they feared she was a vision that could banish if they as much as breath too loudly. A nightmare, this was. Or perhaps, it was reality and she was nothing but a ghost brought before them by some evil power, a hunted soul coming to demand an explanation for their abandonment and failure.

The evil spirit moaned and fell face-first into the mud.

The rain stopped and the clouds above slowly dispersed. The moon reclaimed the night sky. The lights on the mansion and the streets slowly flickered to life, one by one.


	2. Shadows

Hank McCoy slipped a thermometer off the front pocket of his coat and gently forced it inside Rogue's mouth. Logan watched in silence. It had been the same routine day after day for a week. The blue giant mutant would come to make sure her body was responding well to treatment. Then, the Professor would do the same for her mind.

"Fever is gone." Hank notified with a smile. "Pulse is strong and her blood pressure has normalized."

Logan turned to Charles Xavier, hoping he could also give him good news. But the man's face remained grim as his gloved fingers rested on the child's forehead. After a moment, the telepath sighed.

"Charles?"

"I'm afraid there is no change. I can't read anything."

Logan could feel the blood draining from his face. His heart sunk to his feet.

"We'll perform another brain scan tomorrow." Xavier wheeled back away from the bed and towards the door, his voice choked slightly. "It is possible she may be blocking me out somehow."

"I'll have the equipment ready."

The sound of the door closing set Logan off. He let out a feral scream and slammed a fist into the concrete wall, punching right through it. How it was possible the most powerful telepaths in the world could not even tell him what was wrong with the kid? His inability to help her was driving him mad.

"We have to be patient." Mr MaCoy said softly, removing his glasses. "Destroying the Infirmary will not accomplish anything."

"Don't play with me right now, Beast. I aint in the mood."

"I'm not playing, Logan." Hank McCoy- like anyone who dwelled more in the company of books than of people-was a calm and composed individual. It was hard even to begin upsetting him. But his rebuke had the undertones of barely contained anger. It was enough to get Logan's attention. "We're doing all we can. Even when it seems it's not enough."

The feral mutant didn't answer. He slumped back into his chair and scowled. Hank walked out in silence. Alone in the room, Logan sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"I failed ya too, kid. I couldn't keep ya safe. I couldn't rescue you…but I going make it up ta ya, promise ye that. I'm gonna find the bastard that did this ta ya…" His claws unsheathed as he continued talking between tightly clenched teeth "…and I'm gonna cut him 'n pieces."

It was raining again. They feared another storm as huge and destructive as the last one would begin soon. Most of the damages had yet to be repaired and there was no bringing back fatal victims. The rumble of thunders could already be heard. Ororo Munroe-a mutant better known as Storm- glided through the sky, trying to calm the raging winds.

Inside of the Institute for Gifted Children, most mutants were asleep. It was rather late. Only one of residents remained awake. Logan was feeling very edgy. He could always tell when danger was afoot. He could feel it. His eyes were stuck on the face of his sleeping companion.

A thunder exploded outside, startling him. Rogue moaned in the bed. Her face twisted in agony as the storm raged on outside. Logan stood and froze. He couldn't even scream as an intense pain spread through his body like fire. His body lifted off the ground and he floated next to every piece of furniture and machinery in the room.

Rogue screamed on top of the floating bed. Her arms and legs flailed wildly as she fought some terrible, invisible foe. Her wails of terror and pain soon changed in pitch. Feral howls of rage filled the room. Her eyes snapped open. An infernal red light voided them of any trace of humanity.

"Like, oh my god! What was that?"

Kitty Pryde-code-name Shadowcat-screamed on her way to the sick bay, followed close by the rest of the official team of young mutants called the X-Men. Jean Grey, the Telepath on the group, answered her quickly.

"I don't know! But it didn't sound human! And I can't sense whatever it is!"

The lights illuminating the corridor flickered and died. There was another inhuman wail and the walls started shacking. They stopped dead on their tracks, frightened. A blood-curling howl was followed by the meaty sound of a body slamming against something solid. Then…silence.

"Oh, mygodwhatwasthat…?"

"Hush, Kitty, it's going to be fine…"

"That was Logan!" Cyclops snapped, overriding Jean's voice and ruining her attempts at putting the panicking Shadowcat at ease. "Amara, torch up!"

Amara-who had joined the official team quite recently- obeyed the command with no delay. The reddish and golden light of the flames engulfing her body allowed them to see once again.

Logan was standing-or rather hanging- against the wall. Strangled sounds of pain escaped his tightly clenched teeth. Kitty was about to run to him, but Cyclops halted her.

He motioned for them to follow him as he approached the open doors of the room where one of their team-mates, sick and unconscious, was alone now with some unknown foe. They needed to be cautious. Jean recovered from the surprise soon and stood next to him, a hand on her forehead, ready to raise a telekinetic shield to protect them in case of an attack.

They never made it to the door before something white bolted from inside, charging towards Wolverine, a hideous snarl filling the corridor...

He was a kid. He was also a soldier. He had trained under Xavier's tutelage for years. The moment he saw the attacker, Cyclops's hand darted to his glasses and lifted them, unleashing a plasma blast. It hit its mark. The creature yelped in pain. It was thrown back away from Logan and into the shadows reigning outside the golden circle of Amara's fire.

Wolverine fell to the ground, letting out a strangled scream of pain. The team surrounded him in case the creature decided to attack again. They faced together the smothering darkness. The lights flickered back to life. Rogue cowered further back in the corner where she had fallen, moaning in pain.

"Mein Gott..."

"Rogue?"

"Are you okay?"

"Where's the…creature?"

Their eyes scanned the end of the corridor. There were no windows, no doors…no way to escape. And gaping evidence refused to be ignored: a burnt mark on Rogue's arm…where the blast had made contact.

"Zister..?"

Kurt knelt next to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, keeping his bare skin away from hers. Her hands could hide her face but they could not silence her whimpers. She started crying and Kurt hugged her. He didn't know what else to do.


	3. Silence

Charles Xavier had mastered many fields regarding the study and treatment of the human mind, even those that were not- officially- a science. He had years of experience. It was hard to confuse or even surprise him. Rogue had managed to do both. Her mind was a blank slate but she was awake and- despite her silence and erratic behavior-lucid.

"Something must be wrong with the equipment." Hank McCoy, standing next to him, reported. "According to this, Rogue is in a vegetative state. I think we all agree that such results are highly inaccurate?"

He flashed the girl sitting next to the machine a smile. Unfortunately, his attempt to lighten the mood was met by a set of unfriendly eyes and sulking silence. He cleared his throat and turned the device off.

"I don't think the scanner is to blame, Hank. My own readings had the same results."

Rogue fidgeted on the chair, glancing forlornly at the bed. It was obvious those constant tests and mind prodding were a source of distress. She seemed only interested on hiding under the covers and sleep. Professor Xavier had allowed her time to settle down and adjust. But that time was up.

"Hank, Logan…would you please give us a moment?"

"Certainly. I'll send down dinner. It's pizza and ice-cream tonight!"

Rogue swallowed at the mention of the food. Her eyes followed Logan as he also walked out. Once the door closed, her eyes darted back to the telepath. She regarded him warily.

"You have being home for three weeks now."

He stated conversationally. It was hard to hold her gaze. Those wide eyes rarely blinked and- even though Xavier knew it was just his imagination- they seemed to hold the edge of bitter and unspoken accusations.

"I do not know what you went through while you were gone. We tried searching for you. I was-for unknown reasons-unable to read your mind. Logan could not track you down. Even Gambit offered help and he failed as well."

The mention of the Acolyte's name made something spark on those dead eyes. It lasted a second. They were soon as cold and vacant as before.

"I failed to help you then." He continued, trying to keep his emotions under control. "We did everything we could. It wasn't enough. But I can help you now. We all want to help you get through this in every way we can. But we only can if you let us."

He was careful where to place his bare hand. The slightest brush between her naked flesh and his could trigger a very painful experience for both of them. The hospital gown was a thin, but safe barrier. He gave her covered arm a gentle squeeze.

"Let me help you."

The lights suddenly went off and the room was swallowed by darkness. Only two white dots of light remained where Rogue's accusing eyes would be. Charles could not help his reaction. He pulled his hand back.

"How?"

"Please, do not do that anymore."

He should have gotten used to such sudden displays of power. A surge of magnetic energy had deprogrammed the circuits of many-and very expensive-medical equipment. Sporadic storms had ripped the Mansion's flower-gardens apart. She had sneezed fire on Logan once too.

But even though she had managed to startle him yet again, the sudden darkness resulted beneficial. It helped him hid the powerful emotions stirred by the sound of her voice. By the time he managed to get his hands on the switch and turned the lights back on, his face was a mask of calm and composed professionalism. Only a small, brief, smile was allowed to slip.

"I'd like to know how you're feeling or if, maybe, there's something you may want to tell me."

"No. You want to know." She slurred each word carefully. Talking seemed to demand a great effort."What happened."

"Yes." He stated simply. "It would make the search for them easier."

A sardonic smile was her answer. A gesture hardly fitting of the timid shivering child they had been nursing back to health for to the last three weeks. She rose from the chair. The lights went out again.

"Whoever they were, we can find them and bring them to justice." Xavier struggled with the lights. The switch on the wall moved, but the remained in darkness. "You need to trust us, Rogue."

She remained silent. A cold- irrational- sense of dread squeezed Xavier's heart. He could not see her. He could not read her. He only knew she was near. He wheeled back, hitting something solid and hurting his hand.

"Would you please turn the lights back on?" He said, a little too bluntly. "I asked you not to do this anymore. Why are you hiding from me?"

"They are gone." Her voice floated in the dark, some sort of perverse satisfaction echoing in her words. "Ah kill them all."

* * *

There was a tense silence in the room. None of the presents was sure what to say. To be notified that a child had committed murder was not an easy pill to swallow, much less when it was someone they knew, someone that was under their care.

It was Logan who finally spoke.

"Did she give you any names?"

"I'm afraid not" Xavier answered, his eyes fixed on the hissing flames of the chimney. "Confessing what she did was as far as we got."

"Scared ya a little, didn't she? Ye looked as white as your shirt when you came out."

"It is not the time to make jokes, Logan."

Ororo rebuked him sternly, glancing at the teenagers sitting in their mist. Logan's teasing smirk disappeared immediately. He had forgotten Scott and Jean were there. They had discussed a good hour or so before it was agreed to include them in the meeting.

Hank cleared his throat.

"Well, as hard as this is to accept, the fact remains. Rogue has committed a serious crime. It is something that involves the authorities."

"It was in self-defense!" Scott blurted out, jumping to his feet. "I mean, look at her! Her nightmares, her wounds! Who knows what they have being doing to her!"

"They're lucky I didn't get t' them first." Logan added. Metal claws hissed out from under a cover of corroded human skin. "We've being outside 'f the law before."

"It does not matter if it was justified or not." Ororo stated sternly. "She has taken the lives of others. And you, more than any of us, can testify how much that can affect someone. I don't think it is a matter of whom to report this to, either, but what to do about it."

"And considering Rogue has shown certain…abilities she did not possess before her disappearance, together with her apparent immunity to telepathy, I think there are a lot of things to consider before making a decision." Xavier concluded. "In the meantime, we must try to gather as much information about the incident as possible. We need to know who they were, what they wanted and most importantly…where is what's left of them."

* * *

It was a light that never disappeared. No matter for how long it seemed darkness would reign, she knew that out there, that light still was. That simple physical fact had helped her retained sanity many times.

"The old Lady's fat tonight, uh?"

Rogue grimaced at the scent of cigar carried by the wind. The Professor didn't allow smoking on School grounds, but it seemed Logan didn't care about such prohibition. The big Cuban cigar between his fingers was proof enough.

His presence disrupted the temporary calm she had managed to accomplish after hours of sitting in the roof watching the full moon. He had been there with her all the time but the sound of his voice- and the foul smell that accompanied it- forced her to acknowledge him.

"Ye thought it was all a dream, didn't ya? Escaping. Getting home. Finding familiar faces."

Rogue was trying to gather enough energy and concentration to teleport back into the infirmary. Her control shattered. Her concentration slipped. The world blurred. His words cut through her like knives.

"How I made it out of that lab where I got those in's all a blurr…" Logan continued, inspecting his claws and apparently unaware of the chaos he had unleashed inside her. "Fer days I was an animal. A hunter got in the way and was lucky enough to shoot me before I slice him 'n half. It was my wake up call. The pain, the blood…it made me stop. It's when all came crushing down on me."

The stars and the light of the moon were smothered by black, ominous clouds. They gathered above their heads in a threatening mass. Thunders and lightning danced and roared within them.

The mansion started trembling.

Logan finally faced her. Rogue stared back at him, her wide eyes glowing with the power of concentrated plasma energy. He was unafraid, even as the metal that had being injected on him started tugging insistently at his bones.

Rogue's lower lip trembled, a choked sob crawled out of her mouth and tears glided down from those demonic eyes. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to take that trembling hand now resting over the bandages of her burnt arm. But he couldn't move. It was getting painful to breath.

It started raining, and her tears mixed with millions of small water drops.


	4. Reaching out

Jean had been accepted at Harvard. A brilliant career awaited her. Despite being accepted at some good colleges himself, there was no career that really called to Scott. Xavier's Institute had being his home for years and here he had found a family, friends and a porpoise in life. He wanted to help other mutants.

Scott was trained by Mr McCoy and the Professor on how to be a good teacher for the students. Logan taught him everything that needed to be known about survival in extreme situations while Ororo sharpened his mind with exercises that demanded the use of strategy and subtlety. The rest of the time he spent training with the rest of the students, as part of the team or as a teacher himself. It was a demanding routine that kept him busy most of the day.

But sometimes, there was nothing to do. The rest of the young mutants were at School, trying to survive discrimination, violence and finals. The adults sometimes had urgent matters to attend.

Unable to train on the Danger Room or with heavy equipment unsupervised, as the rules went, Scott was left wandering in solitude around the mansion. He would sometimes busy himself repairing damages left behind by the younger students or he would wash his car from the inside out. Other times, he was too tired to do anything at all so he would simply drop on the couch and watch TV.

It was one of those dull days. The Mansion was in silence. It was a School day and the adults were out. Logan and Ororo were in a mission to find who knew what and both the Professor and Hank had a meeting to attend to in New York.

Scott wasn't alone in the house but it didn't make much of a difference. Rogue didn't want company. Only Logan was accepted without hostility. The Professor assured them it was a normal stage of her recovery. She would reach out, in time.

It didn't make him feel any better. Of all the people in the Institute, he knew her the most. He had never given up on her when others did. He was the one person Rogue had always opened up to the most. And now she didn't even want to see him.

"Howdy…"

Scott summers-the field leader of the X-men- yelped and jumped out of the couch as if it had suddenly bitten his butt. His snacks and the remote control flew in the air. If Rogue was amused by his reaction, she didn't show. She remained standing calmly by the door, staring evenly at him.

He stared back vapidly for a moment.

"Uh…hi! Uh…Rogue…How..how are you feeling?"

"Hungry."

"That's not exactly what I meant…"

"Ah know."

His duties as a field leader and trainer kept Scott clear of less enjoyable activities, such as cooking and cleaning. But there had been a time when there wasn't much of a team to lead or train. It had been a time when most of the people living in the mansion were adults. Scott had learnt a lot about cooking and cleaning back then.

He wanted to prepare something special for Rogue. He had all the supplies and ingredients to make a decent plate. But it seemed there was not time for complex preparations. Scott had not yet finished making a mental list of what was available when Rogue simply took an uncooked piece of meat from the fridge…and ate it.

It was the grossest thing he had ever seen. And probably it wasn't all that healthy either. People could catch serious bugs doing that.

"Ah heal." She told him. "Logan."

"Lo…Logan what?"

"Healing power. Ah've got Logan's healing powers."

"Oh…right. Well, that's great!"

It was a wonderful day. Birds sang in the trees and the sun burnt bright in a clear sky. But they stayed inside in a room where the day light barely filtered through the bins. Rogue said the lights hurt her eyes. It had always been dark where they kept her.

She let him serve tea but didn't drink it. He drank his. Neither of them spoke. He didn't know what to say. All that came to mind were questions. Questions she may not be ready to answer. The Professor had told them Rogue was still mentally unstable. It was not safe to talk to her, he said. There was a lot of bottled up anger waiting to be released and a lot of power to do it.

He looked up and found her staring at him. Her green eyes were void of life. The vibrant fire always burning there before was gone. All that remained were watery pools of nothingness where he could only see his own reflection.

The eyes lowered to the table.

"Ah don't understand why y'll are so scared."

"What? I'm not scared! I'm just…we're worried about you!"

"No. Y'll are scared. It's good you're scared."

She rose from the table and walked away, leaving the cup of steaming tea untouched and forgotten. After a moment of hesitation, Scott ran after her.

"What do you mean? I'm not afraid, Rogue. You're my friend. I'm worried about you. Tell me who they were. What did they do to you? Why did they do this to you?"

The words kept stumbling out of his mouth, one after the other. Those dead eyes of hers were like knives stabbing his heart. The faint scars marking her pale face were reminders of how he had failed her. He had given up like all the others. And now that she was back, it seemed there was nothing he could do to make it up to her.

The hard eyes softened slightly. He realized tears were running down his cheeks. Rogue pushed him gently back. For a moment, it seemed the questions would stay unanswered.

"They were mutants. But…Ah don't know what they wanted."

"I should have searched harder. We…"

"There was nothing you could've done. They were too many. Too strong. Too cruel…" Her eyes grew distant. Her voice was but a whisper. "They laughed a lot. Every time they came…there was laughter. We shut them up for good. It was funny…They should have being afraid too."

There was a loud noise and a flash of light. A cloud of dust replaced Rogue. When it dissipated, she was gone. Scott blinked a few times and sat down on the couch for a moment.

* * *

"Ah didn't say that."

"You have said similar things to me."

Rogue moaned and pushed herself further back against the corner on the left side of the bed. Professor Xavier expected her to phase through at some point but she never did. It was something to consider.

"Why y'll act as if Ah'm a threat." She moaned pitifully. "Ah didn't do anything wrong…"

"No one says you did." He assured her quickly. "But it is not common that you just forget the things you say. And I don't think you have complete control over your powers."

The comment upset her. As if to prove him wrong, her eyes blazed with raw energy and the ground itself trembled under him. The lights flickered in and out…Professor Xavier simply stared at her. Her eyes slowly lost their glow. The lights flickered one last time and the ground ceased moving. Rogue's penetrating eyes lowered to the ground.

"If we don't figure out what's happening in your mind." He continued as if nothing had happened. "How can we be sure you may not hurt someone or even hurt yourself?"

Rogue's eyes grew distant. He waited. After a good fifteen minutes, the girl seemed to remember he was there.

"Okay. Get into mah head, Professor. Make it alright again."


	5. Howdy

It was dark and silent like a grave. There were places where darkness was solid. It formed barriers his mind could not penetrate. At times, it seemed those barriers of solid shadows moved, circling him like hunting predators, trying to corner him before an attack. At those times, Charles Xavier, the most powerful telepath on earth, felt fear. He would call out to Rogue and she strained to help. The invisible walls clustering her mind would crumble and he could peek into what laid behind. Sometimes there was a great rage and others, maddening terror.

They worked slowly, releasing those caged emotions one by one in the controlled environment of the Danger Room. There, Rogue could cry and scream without the risk of hurting herself or others as her powers were unleashed.

It was hard and straining for both of them but the daily mental sessions gave good results in a surprisingly short time. Rogue was calmer now and had a greater hold over her powers. By the end of the second month, most of those powers were no longer trigger by emotion.

But something still concerned Charles Xavier. No matter how deeply he wandered into the depths of Rogue's mind, he could not find one single trace of thought or memory.

"It's private." Rogue told him shortly after a particularly insistent prodding. "Y'll don't need see that."

"I could help you..."

"You are helping me." She said quickly and he could see that she was sincere. "But…mah memories are mine."

"You're entitled to your privacy." He conceded with a smile. "You have progressed greatly. You look at me in the eyes now as we speak. There's no turning off the lights anymore and it seems the nightmares are mostly gone?"

"Yeah…Ah feel a whole lot better. Ah can…breathe again. Before it was as if mah heart was all…squeezed 'r something."

He nodded. There was a knock on the door. Mr McCoy entered a moment later and greeted Rogue with a broad toothy smile.

"Good morning. I've got something for you."

He produced a pair of sunglasses from the front pocket of his scrub. Rogue stared at it for a moment.

"Ah control Scott's power. Ah don't…"

"It's for the sun, Rogue. You'll need to get used to it again."

The girl blinked at that and glanced at the window. She rarely thought about the future or what existed outside the mansion's protecting walls. The Infirmary had been her world for almost four months now. And before finding refugee at the Institute, she had been locked in a dark room for, they said, a year.

The light of the sun washing over the green grass, the birds singing on the trees and the gentle breeze of open spaces, had all been but distant memory for a long time. It was strange to think everything was waiting for her just outside the closed bins and thick curtains of the window next to her.

"It is okay to be a little frightened sometimes." Mr McCoy told her suddenly, placing a big furry hand on her shoulder. His fangs seemed to gleam in the dim light of the room. "Trick is, not to let that stop us."

"Indeed." The Professor agreed. "We will not rush you, Rogue. When you feel ready, just let us know. Oh and consider meeting other students. Kitty and Kurt are particularly anxious to see you again."

* * *

It was true the nightmares had stopped. But not for the reasons the professor thought. Darkness gave her nightmares, she had discovered. So she slept a few hours during the day with the gentle light of the sun filtering dimly in her room as a shield against the ghosts of her mind. The nights, she spent awake.

It was a routine that condemned her to loneliness. She had gotten used to being alone, but the constant presence of Logan and the Professor, and her recent encounters with Scott, had spoiled her. Their calming and supporting words were like food to the starved. It was easy now to realize how being alone only led to depressing thoughts and bitter reminiscence. This, she thought, had to be a temporary solution.

Rogue wandered around the house in silent feet, visiting those she had once called friends as they slept. It was the creepiest thing ever, she knew, but it was all she could do to pass the time. Besides, the Professor insisted she met with others.

They all had questions and felt certain emotions regarding her and what had happened. It was wiser, she thought, to read all those questions and emotions before they meet. She read them in their minds so there would be no surprises later. So she could deal with it all in peace.

It was hard to realize most of these people didn't think much of her. There were questions, but most of them born out of some morbid curiosity. Few had questions that aimed to understand. It should not be surprising. She had never deluded herself about her place in the Mansion. There were few people that liked her and that she liked in turn. And there were fewer she actually called friends. And even they had little time to think of her.

Jean's and Scott's love for each other had grown in her absence. Their relationship had developed into something…official. Kurt had wept for her lost "sister" and Amanda, that sweet girl from school, had helped him deal with the loss. Their love had also grown and strengthened. All due to his loss…her suffering. It was strange. She did not enjoy with the pain of others, much less of her friends. It was good that they were content. They had moved on. It was selfish to feel betrayed.

Her wandering steps came to a halt. She hesitated before this last door and stared at it for a long time. It belonged to the last room on the left wind. Her and Kitty's room…

Kitty…Rogue wondered bitterly how long it had taking her to 'move on'.

She phased into the room, glancing first to where her bed had once been. It was still there, but someone else slept upon it. Anger flared within her like fire. Amara. That spoiled child that had not only replaced her on the team but also in this room. Rogue approached the bed with glowing eyes and tightly clenched teeth…

That stabbing irrational rage was quickly subdued. She struggled to rationalize everything, just as the Professor suggested. Amara was not a replacement. She was just a new member in the team. Due to new students, everyone had to share a room. And since this bed had been vacated for some time, it was re-assigned to Amara.

Her eyes traveled across the room. Her Korn and Marilyn Manson posters were gone. The walls were white and naked. The wardrobe was filled with skirts and dresses of light colors and delicate textures. Nothing she would ever dream on wearing. Stuffed animals lined shelves once clustered with books of Shakespearean novels and dark literature…

Replaced. As much as she struggled to rationalize it, that ugly word kept popping into her mind. She glanced dejectedly at Amara's sleeping form one last time before turning her attention to the other bed in the room.

Kitty slept deeply and with a peace reminiscent of a child. There was no tossing about the bed, no sound or gesture that would reveal the secrecy of her dreams. The girl had not changed at all in those long months: it was the same hair, the same face, that same stuffed dragon between her arms as she slept. There was that same alarm clock of intrinsic design standing in the nightstand, right next to the pink lamp. And next to it, the vanity mirror, loaded with pictures.

Rogue picked a framed picture of six young mutants posing with a smile before some unknown photographer. The team…as it had once been. They were so young and happy, blissfully ignorant of the evil nature of people, of the hostility and hatred that they would have to face in times to come. As Rogue turned to set the picture down, her eyes locked in the mirror. It was hard to recognize the aged face staring at her from its gleaming surface...

"R…Rogue?"

Rogue jerked, startled and turned to find Kitty awake. Their eyes met and, for a moment, it seemed the world stopped. And then, Kitty cried out and leap at her, hugging her tightly.

"I've missed you so much!" She cried. "And you wouldn't let me see you! And the Professor totally agreed with you! He told me to wait! I hate you so much! I've missed you and I was so worried…!"

Rogue could not answer. She could not babble any justification. Something was obstructing her throat. Her chest felt tight. Any attempt to speak would result in an embarrassing meltdown. So Rogue simply relaxed among Kitty's arms and heard her cry.


	6. Alone

I won't write Kurt's accent because I don't know how and I should spare you the agony of even attempting to.

I'm sorry for the huge delay. It comes and goes…

The sun shined gloriously in a cloudless sky. Under its warm caress, the grass looked greener. Birds sang their tiny hearts out from every tree in the broad park of Xavier Institute for Gifted Children. Rogue watched it all through narrowed eyes shielded by a barrier of dark plastic from the balcony.

"Sis? You okay?"

It was not a comparison the boy appreciated but Kurt Wagner- also known as Nightcrawler- had many cat-like features. The pointed ears, fangs and furry face were the obvious physical attributes but the most significant were the mannerisms. He walked ever so carefully, never wasting a single move. His steps were soundless even to her.

"Ah'm fine, Kurt. Why do you keep asking?"

"Well…you just…you're…so quiet…Maybe, something's wrong?" He jumped to stand in front of her, blocking her view of the garden. That was another thing. He didn't seem to realize how upsetting the sudden invasion of someone's personal space could be. "Something you wanna talk about?"

"Not really."

He gave her a look painfully popular those days among the mutants at the Institute. It reeked of compassion and misplaced sympathy. Rogue felt the urge to rip it off his face. Kurt smiled and grabbed her hand to lead her away from the window.

There was bunch of boxes resting near the door, labeled with her code-name. The team had dusted them off and carried them out of the basement. Her things were inside and would be unpacked here, in her new room. A room she would share with Jean Grey.

"I'm mostly away at college." The redhead was saying as she opened a drawer and started putting Rogue's cloths in it. "It'll be just you most of the time."

"Great."

At first, Rogue thought the Professor was joking. He wasn't and his explanation left no room for arguments: Jean's was the only room available. Everyone else was already paired up. Why Amara couldn't get her flaming ass out of Kitty's room and move with Jean was never addressed. Rogue wasn't in the mood to bring it up.

Jean had not changed. She was still petulant, shallow and pretentious. And now, she reeked of fear and apprehension. It was a stench that turned every smile and kind gesture into a wanton lie whispered to the ear.

"I'm back!"

They heard Kitty's muffled proclamation a second before she phased into the room. Scott opened it a moment later and walked inside with Amara behind. Each of them was carrying a box and it seemed the boy had the heavier load. He groaned when it was set down. Kitty had eased her load next to Jean.

"I can't believe you've got like four boxes with books and like two with cloths…"

"Don't forget the creepy posters!" Kurt said, unrolling one. "How 'bout we put it right here?"

The wall Kurt had unrolled the poster against was right in front of Jean's bed. The telepath winced. As more of Rogue's things were unpacked, it became harder to maintain a cheerful disposition. It started to fall on her the full repercussions of sharing a room. Half of it was hers no longer and- given her roommate curious tastes- it would turn into a very unpleasant half.

"I don't know." She said, looking pleadingly at Rogue. "Could we just…not?"

Rogue considered the request. It was tempting to put it where Kurt jokingly proposed just to piss off Jean. But the more she looked at the poster, the less thrilled she felt with the idea. It depicted a bunch of kids staring ahead. Their eyes were void of innocence and their faces lacked the characteristic chubbiness of children. They looked scarred and angry and seemed to expect something from onlookers. Dozens of eyes waiting, daring, sneering…

Kurt cried out in surprise as the poster suddenly caught fire. He quickly let go. The thing was consumed before touching the ground. A stench of burning paper filled the room. Rogue teleported out of sight, leaving her friends confused and unnerved.

The burning sun was gone, the annoying birds slept in silence. Her house-mates had been tucked into bed. Rogue was alone in the darkened garden of Xavier's Institute for Gifted Children. She liked to sit at the foot of the broad oak tree near the pool at night. It was peaceful then.

"Rogue!"

Rogue cringed. Kitty didn't have enhanced senses- or additional ones at that- but she was proving to have an uncanny ability to find her every refugee. It was kind of pesky. The bushes whispered, leaves crunched and, a moment later, Kitty was sitting next to her at the foot of the oak tree. The last and beloved refugee was lost.

"You totally bailed."

"What?"

"This morning. At your room?"

"Ah need to be alone."

Rogue gritted her teeth as a fresh wave of concern and compassion flowed from Kitty. Sometimes she caressed the idea of doing something violent just to make them understand there was nothing to be sorry about. If anything, she should be sorry for them. A time of torment and choking loneliness that would have killed or maddened them had only made her stronger. Rogue was the most powerful mutant alive. She was not to be pitied…

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" Kitty said, her blue eyes glistening with tears. "You know I'm totally here for you…right?"

Rogue shivered.

"Yeah. You're my friend."

"Then why won't you talk to me!?" Kitty moved to kneel in front of her. She looked angry, but tears were slipping from her eyes. "You keep avoiding us! Something's eating you up and you're all Mr-Logan with the hiding and the not talking!"

Rogue dimly noticed that yelling at her was a pattern. Scott had yelled at her because of her scars, Kurt had yelled because she didn't smile enough and now Kitty complained about her need for solitude. They had different reasons to yell about. They chose different times and places…but every angry recrimination had something in common: a selfish need of reassurance.

"All you do is talk, Kitty. You don't understand. You don't try to understand. And you don't care what Ah need or what Ah want. You're not as Ah remember you."

Her words hurt. She felt it but she did not care. Everyone hurt her and they were not even aware of that. It took a moment of concentration and a surge of power and Rogue was gone, leaving Kitty alone at the foot of the oak tree.

All vehicles were on the garage and the Black Bird was parked underground as it should. Logan had to make sure all students were tucked in bed as well and so he walked the dark corridors of the mansion. The search was complete with a count of two fugitives.

Logan jumped- startled out of his skin- when Kitty Pryde-code name Shadowcat- suddenly phased through the floor to stand in front of him. She glanced sadly at him before shuffling into her room and closing the door shut. A little taken aback by the gloominess of a usually cheerful child, Logan knocked on the close door.

"Kid?"

"I'm okay, Mr Logan. I've got tests tomorrow."

Logan was mildly annoyed at being dismissed by a transgressor, but whatever Kitty was doing wandering about the halls at night could not be harmful. He turned around and left without another word. There was a more dangerous renegade to take care of before heading to bed himself.

Rogue had made a habit of wandering around the mansion grounds at night. Logan had tolerated it. There were a lot of things the kid needed to figure out alone. A week ago, however, she veered into an unhealthy direction.

Around midnight, Rogue had always walked into the kitchen for a snack. Logan was always there waiting. They talked or enjoy the company of another human being in comfortable silence. And then, she stopped showing up. The third avoidance of their unscheduled meeting had Logan worried. He went out to find her and failed…every night for the last week.

He had been proud, at first. It was not easy to hide from him. It was worrisome, however and he asked her that same morning he had told her to stop wandering the halls at night. Either she talked to him or to Charles. She ignored him. That, in his book, was a clear show of defiance. It was time to show Rogue who was in charge.

With a crooked smirk, Logan stopped by his room to leave his keys and boots and went on for the hunt.

Rogue slammed the refrigerator door shut and bit off a piece of an uncooked beef. The soda-can in her hands opened with a slight surge of magnetic powers waving from her fingers. Over the sizzling gas release, her ears caught another sound. Rogue strained to listen. She sniffed the air nervously and reached out with her mind. Logan was approaching.

Rogue sighed. Of everyone in the mansion, she had thought Logan would understand her need for solitude and respect it. He had become a pest instead. Just like everyone else. She concentrated and jumped, phasing through the roof and landing graciously in the corridor above. A few drops of blood dripped off the beef and stained the carpet.

Logan heard a soft thud upstairs. It was very subtle, barely audible from downstairs. But it was loud enough. Grinning, he turned and ran upstairs on silent feet.

Rogue walked down the hall towards the bathroom, giving a new bite to the piece of red meat. At least Logan made the nights enjoyable. His growing frustration was enjoyable and it served to show them all just how good she was. The mighty Logan was powerless to order her around. She dropped the empty can.

Logan cursed under his breath and crouched behind a wall. He had been considering promoting Rogue to a senior trainer for the rookies but now it would take a great effort not to smack the kid on the back of the head and ground her for life.

She had thrown everything away: speed, stealth and the respect for her opponent. He didn't need his nose or strategic thinking to track her down and caught her, not with all the racket she was making. And the mess. Those stains would never come off.

If there was something Logan hated was arrogant people. The brave always died first; the cowards ran away to save themselves. And the arrogant not only died first but they dragged everyone else down with them.

Logan tensed and leaned slightly forward. Rogue was approaching, humming softly to herself. His lips parted in a silent feral snarl. The second she stepped around the corner, he would scare the crap out of her with a mock- but vicious-attack. The woods creaked slightly under her feet. Her scent grew stronger. Logan leapt forward to tackle Rogue. He coughed, swallowing a mouth-full of sulfuric gas. He growled darkly.

A loud bang sound and a cloud of smoke erupted in the middle of the right-wing. It was followed by Rogue's melodic laughter as she reappeared. Her mirth was short-lived. Hurried footsteps thundered down the corridors.

Logan ran at full speed and turned the corner. An empty corridor greeted him. The scent of sulfur mixed with raw meat floated fresh in the air. He strained his ears and dashed the same way he had come from.

Rogue was not laughing anymore. A second after the smock-cloud dissipated, Logan approaching footsteps resounded near. She cursed herself for porting on the wrong direction in her haste. She tried to concentrate to port away, but she could sense him right down the corner. Cursing, Rogue ran on the opposite direction.

Logan turned sharply down the corridor and a feral snarl slipped his lips as he caught sight of Rogue's foot disappearing around the corner. At the following turn, he saw her stumbling slightly. She entered the right wing again and he tried to ignore the voice at the back of his head begging she didn't teleport…

The final turn…Logan cursed and jumped to avoid running over a wheezing heap on the floor. He scowled darkly at it and crossed his muscular arms in front of his chest.

"Ye're a mess."

Rogue moaned and opened her eyes. It had been too much in too little time. It was frustrating to have so much power and so little resilience. She glared murderously at Logan. He glared right back.

"Hit the showers, kid. Ye begning training again at 5AM."

He turned around and left, humming a soft tune.


End file.
